Traffic Star Development Program

Chapter 71 is in complete chaos

"Um."

"I Am a Singer is coming to an end," she said. "Today is the last episode, and you didn't go."

"Something's up."

"I know." She didn't press further, resting her elbow on the back of the chair, her face turned towards the window, the light shining down, making her silhouette very clear. "I just came to let you know."

Zeng Hao turned to the next page of the contract in his hand.

"There's a project coming up in the second half of the year," she said. "The script has arrived. I'll have my assistant send it to you. Take a look when you have time."

"Um."

"I'm not asking for your opinion," she paused, "I just want you to know."

Zeng Hao put down the contract and looked up.

She was looking at the teacup on the table, her expression calm. It didn't seem like she was waiting for a response; it was more like she had just said it casually and then moved on.

The light shone from her left, stretching her shadow to the right, a long, thin line that just touched the edge of Zeng Hao's table.

"There's one more thing."

"explain."

She took her phone out of her bag, flipped through it, and pushed a screenshot over, screen up.

It's an announcement about a film project, leaked internally. It includes the production company, director, and general direction in just a few lines, but no information about the lead actors.

Zeng Hao glanced down.

"That movie," she said, "don't forget it."

...

Chen Lei stood in the corner of the corridor for about twenty minutes.

He wasn't referring to a script; he'd already memorized it. He leaned against the wall, eyes closed, lips barely moving, occasionally tapping the wall lightly with his fingers, as if he were playing an internal rhythm.

The stylist walked by, wanting to touch up his powder, but was stopped by his assistant, who shook his head.

Peng Bing looked up from the monitor, glanced down the corridor, said nothing, and turned back to continue coordinating camera positions with the photographer.

"Two main camera positions," he pointed to the viewfinder, "This one focuses on Xiahou Dan (His Majesty), and that one on Yu Wanyin. The scene of escaping from the fire in the library and hugging the steps needs to be filmed simultaneously, without a single frame being soft."

The photographer nodded and readjusted the tripod angle.

Chu Ran stood up from the dressing table, her hair ornament swaying gently. She reached out and pressed it down, walked to the edge of the scene, and stood still. She bent down and flipped through the script one last time, then closed it and stuffed it into the side pocket of her backpack. The backpack was placed next to the camera wheels, the zipper open, with half of the Shanghai Theatre Academy textbook peeking out from the gap, unattended.

She stretched her wrists and walked to the center of the scene—where a half-burnt wooden bookshelf stood, and a smoke machine was adjusting the pale gray smoke screen.

Zeng Hao was behind the monitor, not looking at her, but checking today's schedule. There were two more shows after this one, and he estimated that he wouldn't finish work until after nine o'clock.

"preparation--"

The first one went very smoothly.

After Peng Bing shouted "Cut!", the scene was quiet for a full three seconds. No one spoke, the walkie-talkies didn't ring, and even the sound of the lighting crew adjusting their positions stopped for a moment.

Then, with a whoosh, all the walkie-talkies were turned on, and several voices came in at the same time, creating chaos.

The problem lies in the set design for the fire scene.

The fire scene was pre-arranged by the art team, using wooden bookshelves, flammable fabric, smoke machines, and open flame props to simulate a fire in the library.

The photographer said the angle was fine, but the investor representative came out from inside the venue with a strange expression and pulled Peng Bing aside.

Zeng Hao didn't move and continued watching the footage playing back on the monitor.

"It's too realistic," the investor representative said in a low voice, but the sound on set was so clear that everything they said could be heard. "The charred props and the excessive smoke could make the audience uncomfortable. We'll reshoot it, simplify the fire scene effects, and emphasize the actors' escape sequence—"

"Article 11 of the contract," Peng Bing turned around, his voice not lowered, "If there are any disputes regarding the content of the finished film, the main creators must give their written consent. The investors have no right to unilaterally make any deletions or alterations."

"I didn't say cuts or edits, I said reshoots—"

"Reshoots also involve content adjustments."

The investor representative paused and looked towards Zeng Hao.

Zeng Hao paused the replay on Xiahou Dan's face.

When Xiahou Dan, played by Chen Lei, caught Yu Wanyin as she fled from the steps outside the library, his eyes instantly switched from anxiety to tenderness.

Chu Ran, playing Yu Wanyin, was covered in cigarette ash, her hair disheveled. The moment she bumped into his arms, tears welled in her eyes, her lips were clenched but she couldn't suppress the trembling of her shoulders and neck, her eyes filled with the terror of surviving a disaster and the guilt of failing to save Xu Yao. Xiahou Dan's hand first stiffly rested on her back, then tightened forcefully after two seconds, his knuckles turning white, his Adam's apple bobbing, suppressing all his emotions in silence—a silent redemption between comrades-in-arms from the transmigration novel.

The whole process takes about six seconds.

"This one."

Zeng Hao turned off the replay and rearranged the schedule.

The investor representative stood there, looked at him for two seconds, then at Peng Bing for two seconds, swallowed back the words he was about to say, and turned to walk backstage.

Peng Bing turned around, opened his mouth slightly, then closed it again, and finally just nodded to the photographer: "Next scene."

Xu Wen leaned closer to Zeng Hao and whispered, "Mr. Zeng, did you think this one was better, or—"

"It depends on the showtime." Zeng Hao pushed the schedule towards her.

Xu Wen took it, glanced at it, and didn't ask any more questions, but he folded a corner of that page very gently, as if he was writing something down.

The next scene is a long sequence of footage of escaping from a fire.

Inside the library's corridor, Yu Wanyin's path was blocked by a collapsed pillar of fire, smoke billowing behind her, while Xu Yao lay in a pool of blood.

This scene features extras and focuses on Yu Wanyin's solo escape by jumping into the lake, along with the emotional progression.

The stylist checked the Martian prop on Chu Ran's skirt one last time (made of safe flame-retardant material), Peng Bing posted the positioning diagram on the side of the monitor, and the photographer pushed the focus track back and forth three times to meticulously locate the points.

"Chu Ran, when you jump into the lake, watch your eyes," Peng Bing pointed to the white tape on the floor, "Step on this spot and you'll be completely exhausted. When you jump, your emotions need to be at their peak—"

Chu Ran walked over, stepped on the ground twice, and tested the rhythm of her escape. The trail of smoke trails created by her skirt perfectly matched the camera. She looked down at the location and nodded.

"bring it on."

Peng Bing glanced at her but didn't say anything.

First, NG.

The escape sequence was fine, and the smoke effects were appropriate, but when Yu Wanyin saw Xu Yao fall to the ground, she couldn't control her emotions and broke down too much, which didn't match the original setting of "the fear and restraint of a modern person facing death for the first time," and it was out of place.

Peng Bing said to start over.

Chu Ran returned to the starting point without saying a word, tidied her hair which was covered in cigarette ash, took a deep breath, and got back into position.

Zeng Hao watched the first replay from behind the monitor, dragged the progress bar to the second Xu Yao fell to the ground, paused for a moment, and then replayed it.

Her overly expressive crying weakens the character's sense of brokenness—in the original story, Yu Wanyin escaped with gritted teeth, and only dared to shed tears when she crashed into Xiahou Dan's arms. This kind of "restrained emotion" is the key.

A tiny difference can make a huge difference.

He didn't say anything and continued to wait.

Thirdly, Chu Ran's escape scene went too far. When she saw Xu Yao fall to the ground, her pupils contracted sharply, her lips pressed into a straight line, and tears welled up in her eyes but didn't fall.